


One For My Baby

by insominia



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Domestic Fluff, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Mechanic Dean Winchester, Strangers to Lovers, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-29 05:54:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20791709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insominia/pseuds/insominia
Summary: When John Winchester sells his valuable, though slightly wrecked Impala Dean is unimpressed, to say the least. Determined to get her back, he is stopped short when her new owner, some 'C. Novak' guy, not only won't part with her but is gifting her to his younger sister for a birthday present. In a last-ditch effort to say goodbye to his Baby, Dean offers to fix her up and get her sweet-sixteen worthy, even if that means being around her new owner for a while. Though, actually he's surprisingly generous. And hella kind. And funny. And all kinds of hot...Damn.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Yulliah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yulliah/gifts).

> So a few days ago in the Facebook Group 'Destiel - Writers & Readers' Yulliah posted this prompt:
> 
> "When John kicks out his eldest over his sexuality, he quickly realizes Dean was more or less paying for his alcohol by taking care of the mortgage and utility bills... To cover the loss, he sells his valuable, though slightly wrecked, Impala...
> 
> When Sam finds out (The money ran out quickly, and john reached out to him at Stanford to ask for money), he tells Dean. 
> 
> Dean, of course, is hell bent on getting baby back. The new owner, Castiel Novak, has no intention of selling the car he bought for his teenaged sister Anna’s upcoming sweet 16. 
> 
> Still Castiel hasn’t found the right mechanic for its needed restoration, and Dean really can’t handle some random grease-monkey getting their hands on baby...
> 
> They come to a deal: Dean will come stay at Castiel’s place for 2 weeks to restore baby in return for a fat cheque and a chance to give the shiny sleek black love of his life a proper farewell...
> 
> Oh, and some reason for Castiel not being a dick for not selling baby to Dean; A good reason for wanting to keep her (maybe a sentimental thing and wanting to replace a different similar car), or Dean not properly explaining his love for baby... Extra points if Castiel wants Dean to change baby’s color!"
> 
> And initially, I paid it no attention at all. Then it wormed it's way into my brain on the school run and somehow became almost 13k with chapters and an epilogue. Dammit. I had a lot of fun writing this and am super excited to share it with you <3 
> 
> Thanks all you lovely people in the group who cheered for this prompt and to the gorgeous betas who helped iron out the very many kinks (and not the good kind). sweetness47, goldenraeofsun (who really helped with the whole UK/US divide thing. Like REALLY helped) and of course Lurlur, the most awkward friend I could ask for. 
> 
> \--

Baby, Dean Winchester’s pet name for his father’s Chevrolet Impala 67, wasn’t the only one on the road. In fact, Dean has seen three others in his life. 

The first had been at a vintage car fair Bobby had taken him and Sam to for Dean’s tenth birthday. Even though the display car had been polished to within an inch of its life, Dean thought his dad’s looked better and was sure to tell the guy showing it so. Bobby took them to a diner on the way home to reward him for that mouthful. 

The second time had been at a monster truck show. He hadn’t seen it at first and he might not have seen it at all if Sam hadn’t pointed it out to him. Not that he had all that much time to appreciate it, catching sight of it just as it disappeared under the oversized wheels of a truck aptly named ‘The Behemoth’. What remained of it after The Behemoth had finished its run was barely recognisable as a car, let alone one as beautiful as the Impala. Dean slept on Baby’s back seat that night, whispering assurances more to himself than to her that he would never let her get in such a state. His father hadn’t been impressed to find him there the following morning, but then, when had John Winchester been impressed by anything his sons had done? 

The third and final time had been relatively recently. He’d been driving around Kansas and just happened to find another Impala driving on the other side of the road. He and the other driver had given a friendly wave and a huge grin as they wordlessly complimented each other on their excellent choice of cars.

Even so. Even knowing that Baby was one of many, however much she might be one of a kind, Dean recognises her instantly and would have even if Sam hadn’t given him the address of her new owner. That she even  _ has _ a new owner had been a blow but not altogether unexpected. John Winchester had threatened to sell her often enough in the past and since he’d kicked Dean out, there really was nothing left to stop him, especially as he’d lost Dean’s wages in the process, which was likely the only thing about him John missed. Well, that and the fact that Dean had basically been his on call chauffeur. If Dean had been there none of this would be happening.

It was Sam who’d gotten the call from the hospital to inform him that his dad, in no fit state to drive, had done so anyway, lost control of the car and was paying for it now. Almost as much as his liver was paying for too long a drinking habit. He needed money, because when did he ever not need money? But Sam had no interest in bailing his dad out of whatever trouble he’d gotten himself into, though he hadn’t seriously expected John to go ahead and actually sell the Impala to replenish the liquor fund. Even with Sam’s advance warnings about the accident Dean is in no way prepared for the sight of Baby, dinged, dented and missing one of her headlights. The fact that she’s parked in someone else’s driveway is just one of the many things wrong with this picture.

“Oh Baby, what did he do to you?” Dean breathes, running his hand over her hood, affectionately. He hadn’t intended to get distracted, he was just going to chat to the new owner, to this ‘C. Novak’ who, through a one in a million chance, happened to live near Bobby’s place where Dean is currently slumming it. He hadn’t intended to get down on his knees, assessing the damage to the fender, wincing when he finds the underside of the car in worse condition than he’d imagined. “I’m so sorry sweetheart, I should have taken you with me,” he whispers, soothingly.

“Can I help you?” a voice brings Dean back to reality with as much of a bump as the car has suffered and he’s suddenly very aware that he’s kneeling in a stranger’s driveway beside a car, stroking her hood and whispering endearments.

Dean turns around so sharply he almost loses his balance but manages to right himself before he makes even more of a fool of himself.

“Oh hey I was just-” but his words stop abruptly. His mouth goes dry as Dean claps eyes on the most devastatingly handsome man he’s ever seen. There isn’t much that can distract Dean from Baby at the best of times, but  _ this _ guy with eyes so blue they surely aren’t natural and hair ruffled as though Dean had pulled him from bed- not a thought Dean can afford to entertain right now...well...thoughts of Baby faded entirely.

At least until the man narrows his eyes and says again, in a voice that is absolutely too low for human consumption, “Yes?”

“I- I uh...” Baby. Getting the car back. Dad shouldn’t have sold it. Right. He clears his throat, “Sorry, hi, I’m looking for C. Novak?”

The man’s arms fold across his chest and abrasively he snaps, “Why?”

Normally, Dean would square up to him in kind, but then the guy had come across him doing something hella weird by anyone’s standards, plus he could get away with a lot being several kinds of hot. “I just wanted to talk to him about the car,” Dean says, casually, “that’s all. She’s a real beauty,” he adds because surely anyone who owned Baby would appreciate the compliment.

For a moment longer the man holds his gaze, considering him before some of the tension leaves his tightly held shoulders, “I’m C. Novak,” he says and Dean isn’t at all surprised. “What can I help you with?”

In hindsight, Dean should have rehearsed this bit. Even if the guy hadn’t managed to tie him up in knots by doing nothing more than existing, he should have considered what it was he was going to say. Still, he manages to stumble through most of his words. “So...uh...I know this is probably gonna sound a little weird, but uh...can I...buy the car off you?”

The man’s eyes widen in surprise, “Oh...um...” He blinked a few times, “What?”

“Yeah so listen, The guy you bought it off, John Winchester? That’s my dad-”

“Oh! His son, he talked about you. Sam, right? You’re a long way from Stanford...”

“No uh...I’m his other son, Dean.” From the way the guy hesitates it’s clear John hadn’t mentioned him at all, and though Dean had known that was bound to be the case, it still hits him hard. “Didn’t mention me, huh? Figures. Anyway, I know he sold you the car, I know you got it at a knockdown price coz he crashed it, but...I’ve had my heart set on her since I was old enough to breathe. Truth is, she shouldn’t have been sold. I’ll pay you the actual value of the car, so a bit more than you paid for it and I’ll find you a different car to make up for it. I’m a mechanic and my...my uncle he’s got a lot of contacts around town so I’m sure I can set you up with something good.”

As far as Dean is concerned, it’s a pretty decent suggestion and the guy doesn’t look too offended at the prospect. Instinctively, his fingers twitch towards his back pocket just to double-check that Bobby’s cheque book is there. He’ll pay Bobby back if it takes him to the end of his life to do it, but given that Bobby knows how much Baby meant to Dean, _ means _ to Dean, he’d handed over the money without argument.

But the man starts to frown, “Normally I’d say yes, given that you’re obviously a lot more invested in the car than I am-”

“Great!” Dean beams, “Oh man, I am so happy to hear that-”

“ _ But _ ,” the guy cuts across him quickly, in a tone that tells Dean that his hopes are about to be quite roundly dashed, “I’m afraid...I can’t. I didn’t buy the car with just my money, this is all my brother’s idea, I’m just the middle man. My brother saw the ad for the car, and we both went halves on it. Now it’s my job to get it fixed up in time for our sister’s sweet sixteen.”

Dean’s jaw is somewhere on the floor, and he knows it. He doesn’t even care that he looks ridiculous with his mouth hanging open. A sixteen-year-old driving around in Baby? Is this a joke? An imaginative and cruel joke on the part of the universe. God knows what Dean had done to deserve this but he must have pissed someone off mightily in a past life.

“Normally I’d just get in touch with my brother, and I’m sure he’d be fine with it. He’d understand, but...he’s away on work for the next week or so, as such he isn’t taking calls, and he was very much in favour of this car, we’ve been promising our sister something decent when she came of age for as long as we’ve been driving ourselves.” He starts worrying his bottom lip, and it’s a testament to how disappointed Dean is that he barely notices it. “I’m not interested in selling it I’m afraid. Sorry,” he adds, looking downcast, even though he’s only slightly aware of why Dean wants the car back. It’s not like Dean has told him the whole story. It’s not like Dean  _ could _ tell him the whole story.

“Okay,” Dean breathes, saying the word even though things have never been less okay in his life and that includes his father physically throwing him out of his house just a few months ago. “Okay.” He looks back at Baby and his stomach clenches. His eyes burn. He hasn’t really entertained the thought until right now that he’d be leaving without her. “You’re uh...you’re sure, you’re not interested, is it money? I can go higher?” He can’t, but in the moment he’d offer anything. Are deals with the devil a thing? He doesn’t need his soul. Baby is his soul.

The guy shifts uncomfortably, “I’m sorry, really I am. But, we have this whole plan and...if I thought I could get hold of my brother in time I’d consider it, I really would, but...I’m sorry.” Neither of them move, and Dean finds his gaze drawn inexorably back to Baby. His Baby. “It’ll take me that long to get the work done,” the man adds, trying to sound light-hearted, “There aren’t that many places around here who specialise in classic cars...”

“I could do it,” Dean says before his brain registers that his lips have moved. “Like I said, I’m a mechanic and honestly, there isn’t anyone who knows her better than I do. I’d...” he chokes a little, “I mean...it’d mean a lot if I could fix her up for you. Say goodbye...” He sounds pathetic and he knows it, but the other man just seems to look at him sadly.

“I think we could come to an arrangement,” he says, quietly.

It isn’t much, but Dean brightens, aware that he’s now grinning as though Christmas has come early just because the guy is willing to humour him. “I won’t charge you,” he adds, quickly, “I mean, I’ve offered and you’re really doing me a favour here, so...and my uncle, he runs a salvage yard, and I know he’s got parts for her up there. If she needs anything we can get them at cost too. It’ll be way cheaper than taking her to a shop.”

The man still chews his lip but with far less desperation now. Instead, he seems to be considering the situation. Dean sighs in relief when he says, almost determinedly, “Okay. Yes. But...it needs to be ready in two weeks and...you  _ will _ have to say goodbye at the end. I’m afraid I really am not interested in selling.”

“Okay, okay,” Dean nods, taking whatever he can get. “Tell you what, I’ll give her a look over now, see what needs replacing, and I can bring what I can with me tomorrow morning. Get started on her right away.”

“Alright. Yes. I think this can work, just...remember I’m not selling,” he adds again. His blue eyes burn into Dean’s, trapping his breath in his throat for a moment. “I don’t want you going into this with false expectations.”

“No I-I get it.” Two weeks before he had to say goodbye. He can work with that. He’ll be an absolute wreck in two weeks, but that’s future Dean’s problem. Present Dean only has to worry about finding the right parts. “Thanks, man,” he says, sincerely, “I mean it, I...I appreciate this.”

The man holds his hand out to shake, “You’re doing me a favour too, so I’m glad we can help each other, Mr. Winchester.”

“Oh buddy, no, Dean. Just Dean.”

The man smiles and it’s like stepping into the sun. “Dean, then. Castiel Novak.”

They shake hands and Dean would deny his grin as he did so, given the circumstances. “Alright then, let’s see how she’s looking, Cas.”


	2. Chapter 2

Dean and Castiel exchange details, numbers, and everything else required of two people entering an arrangement or performing a transaction. Dean goes over Baby and makes a list of everything that needs doing for her to run before they even consider what Castiel wants to be done. They arrange a time for Dean to come back the following morning and Dean spends the evening picking out which of Bobby’s tools he’s going to use to get the job done. Yet, in spite of their solid plans, Castiel still looks a little surprised to see Dean when he shows up the following morning, toolbox in hand. If the startled expression is not enough to give it away, the fact that he answers the door in little more than a loose bathrobe over a pair of boxers, cup of coffee in hand, would certainly do it.

“Dean!”

Dean double-checks the time on his phone, just to make sure he isn’t early, but nope. They’d definitely agreed nine and it was only a little before. Not that Dean is going to complain given his welcome. If he thought Cas looked good the day before... holy hell, that is nothing compared to Castiel: Sleep rumpled featuring Bathrobe edition. God but the guy is  _ ripped _ . And, thankfully, seemingly so surprised that Dean is on his doorstep that he doesn’t notice Dean practically drooling on the spot.

“We uh...said nine, right?” Dean asks when he manages to find his voice. Those thighs though. Castiel is definitely a runner and Dean definitely does not think about what he could do with those thighs. Not one bit.

The look Castiel gives him has no business being as adorable as it is when he looks the way he looks. “I...didn’t expect you to actually show up,” he confesses, and Dean can’t help but frown. “I thought given that I was unwilling to sell you’d change your mind, especially considering you want to do all the work for free.”

“No, I mean it, you don’t want to sell and that’s-” Dean swallows, a breath away from saying, ‘that’s fine’ when it blatantly isn’t, “I get that you don’t wanna sell,” he tries again, “so I’m just happy to get my hands on her before she goes. Besides, I know all the mechanics around here, and there’s not one of them I’d trust with her.”

“Didn’t you say your uncle was a mechanic?”

Dean gives a light-hearted shrug, “I stand by what I said. You okay if I…?” he waves towards Baby in the universal gesture of ‘get to work’ and Castiel nods.

“Yes, please, don’t let me stop you, I should probably get dressed...”

Or you could not, thinks Dean, but of course, he doesn’t say it, and such thoughts are easily ignored once he’s gotten under the Impala.

Circumstances notwithstanding, for Dean it’s a good day. It is easy to forget the hows and whys he ended up under Baby when ultimately he is where he wants to be. He is only vaguely surprised to find the mixtapes he hadn’t been able to retrieve from the car before John had kicked him out. They hadn’t been a priority when Sam had managed to sneak out what few belongings he wanted to take with him, something he hadn’t realised he regretted until he found them in the glove compartment.

It’s a warm day, sunny but breezy enough that Dean doesn’t feel like he’s cooking on the asphalt of Castiel’s driveway. The tunes are good, naturally, and he doesn’t feel remotely self-conscious about his half-assed attempts at singing along, pausing to grunt or curse as he wrestles with the more stubborn parts of Baby’s framework. He hadn’t expected Castiel to come out with a pitcher of iced water and a cooler with a couple of bottles of soda, ‘in case you wanted something with flavour,’ which really had no reason to cause Dean to grin so much, but there it is. The guy is adorably awkward and in those few moments of the smallest of talk reveals that he knows absolutely nothing about cars and he is far more grateful than Dean initially appreciated. They trail off into an awkward silence after Dean’s, ‘no problem’ breathlessly delivered after he’d practically downed the pitcher of water and Castiel bids him a hasty, ‘I’ll let you get on with it then,’ and disappears into the house.

He doesn’t appear again until lunchtime. Not that Dean notices such things, having completely lost track of time and his own needs since he’s in his element. He doesn’t notice his stomach rumbling until Castiel calls him from under the car, tentatively holding a plate out to him.

“I thought you might be hungry,” the guy says, almost blushing when Dean beams up at him as though Cas holds the holy grail. “I didn’t know what you liked so I just went with-”

“Hey man, whatever it is, I’ll eat it, thanks!” There’s a moment of awkward hesitation where Castiel clearly debates whether he is meant to stay out with Dean while he eats his lunch or go back inside and leave him to it. Ultimately, he decides on staying put, and the two exchange stilted small talk that becomes less stilted when Cas starts asking questions about the Impala. The obvious question never comes up, even though Castiel must be wondering about it. If Dean was meant to get the Impala from his father how had it ended up being sold online to Castiel? But Cas never asks, choosing instead to inquire as to how Dean got into mechanics, showing no surprise whatsoever when the answer is, “That beauty over there.”

For Dean’s part, he learns that Castiel is smart. Like, really smart. He could hold his own against Sam, which is one of the highest compliments Dean can think of. He lectures, usually, but has taken a sabbatical to do research into the nature of sin beyond its application to humanity, which will be the focus of his next book. Even though he can talk about books he’d written  _ plural  _ he’s surprisingly easy to talk to, now that they have gotten past the natural awkwardness that comes with a stranger in necessary proximity. And, okay, it is more than a little adorable the way his lip curls up at the corner when he gets carried away talking about his work. Not to mention the flush that creeps into his cheeks when he realises it.

“I’m sorry- I’m probably boring you-”

“Nah man,” Dean grins. He’s long since finished his sandwich (chicken and bacon, so bonus points to the guy there) and should probably get back to work. “It’s pretty cool that you enjoy it so much.” He should really get back to work. “I mean, you make it sound really interesting but without sounding like you’re patronising me, so you’ve got that going for you at least.”

The smile Cas turns on him is sunnier than the sky. “Thank you, Dean.” He catches himself smiling and covers it by reaching for the plate. “I should...I should let you get on.”

“Yeah...” Dean glances over at Baby and then calls back, “Hey, Cas. Thanks for the sandwich.”

There’s that smile again. A warm day spent under Baby with a hot guy keeping him fed and watered...under any other circumstance, it would be a perfect day.

The sun is starting to set when Dean wipes his hands on a rag, and Castiel appears in the doorway as though summoned.

“Looks like I’m done for the day.” He hesitates. This was the awkward part, but if he could do it, then the rest of the week would be a lot easier. “Hey, would you mind if I used your shower before I head off?” He picks up his duffle, tries not to look too hopeful and is on the verge of launching into a number of rehearsed explanations, only to find that Castiel is already gesturing for him to come indoors.

“Oh...thanks...”

He follows Castiel into the house, feeling like he was so dirty he was bringing the tone down just by stepping foot inside. But Cas just leads him down a short, clean hallway and gestures towards the bathroom. “I put some clean towels out for you...” He flushes. “I just...I assumed you’d want to clean up.”

On the verge of making a no doubt hilarious retort, Dean catches sight of himself in a mirror, or rather, Dean catches sight of the filth that has assumed a Dean-like shape. There is hardly an inch of him that isn’t covered in some kind of grime or oil. In hindsight, it would have been rude for Cas to let him leave like this and he laughs, “yeah, you’re right, thanks.”

With the door closed behind him, Dean strips, and steps gratefully into a steady stream of hot water. The sound he lets out is almost as indecent as the mess washes off him, a stark contrast to the white ceramic of the bath. He dries off carefully and throws on a change of clothes, one of several he’s brought with him, though Cas doesn’t need to know that. He isn’t sure what the guy would say if he knew Dean intended to live out of his car until the work on Baby was done, but he knows it will come across as pretty weird. Almost as weird as coming out with, ‘hey so I’ll be in a park around the corner seeing as I’m still not settled since my dad kicked me out when he found my tongue down some guy’s throat, and I don’t really have the gas money to drive down here every day from my uncle’s. Well, he’s not really my uncle but right now he’s the only family I got so...’

It’s with a heavy sigh that he rolls his dirty clothes into a carrier bag to worry about later. If his life isn’t such a mess maybe he’d consider asking Cas out. But then, if his life wasn’t such a mess Cas wouldn’t be looking to sell the love of Dean’s life. Another sigh. Seriously, everything was such a mess.


	3. Chapter 3

All in all, there are worse places Dean has ended up. Besides, the car Bobby lent him to get around is bigger than Baby, so in theory, he’ll be more comfortable holed up on the backseats. The view is nice at least. The parking lot backs onto a public space so green you’d never think there were roads anywhere near it. He’d found a space off to the side, where no one will notice him, sheltered under some trees beside a running trail and conveniently close to the public toilets. There’s even a water fountain close by if he needs it. He picked up some groceries on the way over so he isn’t going to go hungry, though he’ll probably kill for a hot meal when all this is over. The spare blankets and pillows he brought with him are thrown over the back seat into what looks like a comfy nest. The well-thumbed book Sam threw at him over a year ago promising Dean would enjoy it will ensure he won’t get bored, as does the beer in the footrest. If all else fails, there’s a dive bar around the corner.

It doesn’t come to that though. Sam was right, the book  _ is _ good. Between the beer and the page-turner in his hands, leaning into as many blankets as he is, Dean could even say he was comfortable. So comfortable that when the rapping comes at the window he jumps so high he knocks his head against the roof and sloshes beer all over himself.

“What the hell, man?” he snaps, trailing off instantly when he realises that it’s Cas on the other side of the window, looking at him curiously. “Dammit,” he mutters and gestures for Cas to step back so he can open the door. Stepping out he tries to act casual. “Hey, Cas, what’re you doing here?” he asks, mentally kicking himself. The guy is dressed in running shorts, headphones leading to a phone strapped to his arm and a sheen of sweat over his forehead. Oh, and Dean was,  _ of course _ , parked next to a running trail. But if Cas thinks his question is a stupid one, he doesn’t show it. He’s too busy looking past Dean at the scene behind him.

“Dean...” he starts, “are you living out of your car?”

For a moment, glancing over his shoulder, Dean thinks about spinning a lie to explain the compromising situation in which he’s been found. But it is pretty obvious what’s going on, so instead he holds his hands up defensively, “it’s not what you think.”

Castiel would be well within his rights to demand an explanation. At the very least he could be angry. Random guy turns up, tries to buy his car, offers to fix it for free and turns out to be homeless. It’s pretty weird. But he just waits, patiently for Dean to explain.

The patience allows Dean to take a breath. “Okay, so...you figured my dad and me, we don’t get on. Truth is, he kicked me out a few months ago, didn’t raise no ‘ _ fag _ ’ yadda yadda yadda...” he mutters, and even though it’s an old argument it still feels like a kick in the gut. More than the actual kicks in the gut had at any rate. “I’m staying at my uncle’s place, but I don’t really have the money to get down here every day for the next two weeks so I thought I’d hole up here.”

Castiel still hasn’t said anything, and Dean hesitates, a sinking feeling somewhere in his stomach. “I uh...I get that this is a bit weird...” he trails off, not entirely sure where to take it now. There’s no way the guy is gonna let him near his car again...or his house...or anywhere near him.

“Oh Dean,” he sighs, and Dean braces himself for  _ it _ . “I have a spare room you can stay in until you’re finished if that suits you?”

“Yeah, I get it, I- wait...wait, what?”

“I have a spare room you can stay in,” Castiel says, again, as though Dean had genuinely not heard him. “It’s not very big, but-”

“No, wait, Cas. This is the bit where you tell me I don’t come round no more and you’ll find someone else to work on the car.”

Castiel cocks his head to the side, puzzled, “do you want to end our agreement?”

“No!” Dean says so quickly Castiel has barely finished speaking.

When Cas replies, it is so casually Dean’s head spins. “Alright then, besides, at least this way I get a ride home.”

Dean arches an eyebrow, “Are you inviting me to stay just so you don’t have to run back?”

“I think it’s fairly obvious that I am,” Castiel’s deadpan response comes and all the tension Dean carries disappears as he throws his head back and laughs.


	4. Chapter 4

Castiel’s house is nice in the way that other people’s houses are, and Dean’s has never been. The kind of house one might imagine when picturing the white picket fence. There isn’t a white picket fence but there is a driveway and a small front garden. There are two bedrooms, the master and the spare, an open plan lounge, a kitchen separated by a counter Cas seems to use as a breakfast bar, and a home office Dean has no cause to go into. It’s not big, but the fact that Castiel doesn’t have much in the way of furniture or clutter makes the space seem larger, and maybe the lack of stairs makes it seem cosier. It could almost be described as minimalistic if it weren’t for the fact that almost every wall has, in some form, books to hand. There’re floating shelves in the hallway, traditional wooden cases in the lounge, and functional metal frames in the office. Dean would never have thought himself at home in such a place, but in an embarrassingly short space of time, he settles into Castiel’s life as though he as always been there.

They fall into a pattern that is almost domestic. Dean is eager to prove he’s a decent house guest and offers to take care of the cooking, which turns out to be a blessing as he has apparently already experienced the extent of Castiel’s culinary skills. That first night, Dean is surprised to find rows of packaged foods and easily reheatable meals for one, so goes all out and scavenges enough ingredients together to make a sort of fajita-style casserole which is nothing special, but Castiel digs into it as though it were manna from heaven. He offers to go shopping for groceries if Dean will make a list and cook them, looking as though Christmas has come early when Dean agrees casually.

“I might have to keep you,” Castiel says when Dean tells him to put flour and butter on the list so he can make a pie crust (it’s just so much better than store-bought).

Dean shrugs. “It’s just cooking, man.”

But Castiel just stares at him in open admiration as though Dean possesses some deep and arcane knowledge he could never hope to attain. Dean, of course, shrugs again. It is after all the least he can do even though Castiel seems to think he’s getting the better end of the deal – a free mechanic and chef in return for use of a spare room that stands empty anyway.

A routine forms as easily as if they’d planned it. Dean gets up early and makes breakfast and coffee, which he leaves on the side to tempt Castiel from bed. Cas usually surfaces while Dean is already at work and they chat a little while Dean gets on with it and Cas prepares to start whatever it is he intends to do for the day. They break for lunch, usually made by Dean the night before and as the good weather holds they sit on the doorstep to eat it, seeing as Cas doesn’t mind Dean in his oil-stained, grease smudged state. In fact, from the way his gaze lingers a little too long when he thinks Dean isn’t looking, Dean would say he minds it very much, but that’s probably wishful thinking on Dean’s part.

usually Dean finishes first, putting his tools away and giving Baby an affectionate pat good night when the sun starts to creep away and the light begins to fade. A quick shower, a change of clothes, and he’s got food on the table by the time Cas emerges from his study. They chat over dinner, and Dean finds himself continually conflicted by the fact that they get on well. Really well. There’s no doubt about it that they are friends now, possibly even one of the best friends Dean has ever had and that’s because they get on so well, not because Dean hasn’t had many friends. They talk about everything and anything. They exchange coming out stories; Cas says how his parents had been reticent at first but once they’d gotten over the initial shock they had proven to be good allies. Dean mutters his way through his story that was less coming out and more being dragged out,  _ literally _ , but Cas is so affronted on his behalf that he curses up a storm about John Winchester and ends up hugging Dean for a long time. Dean hadn’t seen the hug coming, but he relaxes into it. It’s the first real physical contact they’ve had and Castiel doesn’t seem to be looking for a reason to let go.

Once that first bridge is crossed, Castiel doesn’t seem to  _ stop _ touching Dean. There are brushes of fingers when mugs are handed over, lingering touches to the shoulder as Cas passes or leans over and inevitably they end up practically snuggling on the couch together when they decide to put something on. Dean takes it upon himself to educate Cas on popular culture seeing as the guy is embarrassingly ignorant of the classics. It’s easier to share popcorn beside each other, Dean insists, though the bowl always ends up on the floor, Cas usually ends up pressed against Dean’s chest one way or another, (he likes to stretch out and it is his house after all) and they always end up arguing over the semantics of the plot. The first night especially is spent in heated debate over what constitutes a classic. It’s worth it to see Cas get riled up, his eyes seem to flash when he does and Dean could listen to him speak all day.

By the time Dean fixes all the issues caused by Baby’s accident, it’s almost a struggle to remember that this isn’t the norm and in less than two weeks he’s going to be saying goodbye to his beloved Impala. In less than two weeks he’s going to be saying goodbye to Cas.


	5. Chapter 5

On the sixth day, the day after Dean has finished getting Baby into roadworthy condition, Castiel surprises him by having coffee and breakfast ready for them. As if that’s not suspicious enough, he’s made bacon and he’s worrying his bottom lip, glancing over at Dean nervously.

“You alright there, buddy?” Dean asks, starting to fear the worst. The Impala can be driven without an issue now. Is Cas about to kick him out, deciding that whatever else needs to be done doesn’t need Dean’s expertise?

Castiel takes a deep breath, and Dean braces for the well-meaning but ultimately devastating dismissal.

“I’d like to talk about the alterations I’d like you to do before Anna’s birthday.”

Dean exhales, slowly. “Oh...oh uh...sure?”

Castiel waits another moment and seems to sigh in relief. “Sorry,” he mumbles, “given how attached you are to the car, I wasn’t sure if you’d be angry.”

“Angry?” Dean looks at him in surprise. He could never be angry. Nothing about this is making him angry. It’s carving out a hole inside his soul that he knows will never be replaced but Cas doesn’t know that and he’s trying his hardest to remain professional. “Dude, she’s your car,” he says with a forced smile. Cas probably knows he’s faking it, but he doesn’t call him on it. “What are you thinking?”

Castiel takes him outside so they can discuss the alterations beside Baby and honestly, that makes sense. This way Cas can point out what he wants doing and ask for Dean’s opinion given that he has no idea if what he wants can actually be accomplished. It’s not Castiel’s fault that Dean feels like he’s about to throw up his breakfast and he plasters the most neutral expression he can manage onto his face, nodding along to Castiel, pretending he can hear him over the blood pounding in his ears.

“So, firstly, I was wondering about seatbelts?” Castiel leans into the car as though to confirm that there are in fact no seatbelts. “I brought it up with my brother before we bought the car and he says they’ll spoil the interior, but I’m not comfortable gifting Anna something that’s not safe.”

Something flares possessively inside Dean’s chest at that but it’s not unreasonable of Cas to ask, so instead he levels his breathing and tries to ignore the pain clawing in his gut. “You know, lap belts are better than no seatbelts at all and they won’t spoil the interior either. I was thinking of installing them myself when-” He breaks off, a breath away from saying ‘when she came to me’ because she isn’t coming to him. She’s Castiel’s sister’s car now. Dean clears his throat. “Yeah, so that won’t be a problem. What else?” he asks, hiding the strain in his voice. He can do this. He  _ can _ do this.

Cas regards him as though he knows something is wrong, but again, he doesn’t press and Dean is grateful for it. “I noticed there’s only a tape deck, and while I think it probably adds to the aesthetic, maybe you could add a jack so she can listen to music that came out in her lifetime.”

Dean glares at him but can’t stay mad when he sees Cas’ eyes sparkling with mirth, and part of him is a little grateful that he’s trying to make this easier. It doesn’t, but he’s trying.

“Sure thing.” Dean frowns but that’s more from the effort of thinking where he can get such a thing from, Bobby definitely won’t have one…

“I noticed there’s something jammed back here, too.” Castiel gestures towards one of the rear doors. “You think you could get it out?”

The frown might as well be part of Dean’s face now, but he leans towards where Cas is pointing, ignoring the warmth he feels radiating from the other man. Definitely ignoring. His heart sinks when he sees what Cas means. It’s one of Sam’s old army men that’s been jammed there since forever. He nods, his mouth dry, not trusting himself to speak.

“There are some scratches too, in the back here, but they should be pretty easily covered up.” It’s clear from the way in which Castiel waves his hand in the general direction of the car’s trunk that he hasn’t actually looked at the scratches too closely or he’d see they were initials. It wouldn’t take his PhD to put two and two together and connect the ‘D.W.’ ‘S.W.’ to Dean and his brother.

“Ok,” Dean manages to rasp.

“And then just the last thing but I’m not sure if you’ll be able to do it yourself or if you could recommend someone?”

Dean glances up, intrigued.

“The paint job. I understand black is classic but my brother and I were rather sold on the idea of having it repainted in Anna’s favourite colours. Gabriel suggested hot pink, but I thought something like cherry red would be more in keeping with the classic appearance. Maybe with a white roof?”

If Castiel had grown a second head, Dean would have stared less.

“What do you think?”

This time at least the pounding in his ears faded as he stares and stares.

“Dean?”

Hot Pink? Cherry Red?

On  _ Baby _ ?

“Dean?”

“Dude, no.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You can’t...you can’t repaint Baby.”

Castiel cocks his head, “Baby?”

Dean waves it away, having not realised that this is the first time Castiel has heard him refer to the Impala as such. “You just- you just can’t, alright. She’s perfect the way she is.”

“It is a very pretty car as you say, but as it’s going to my younger sister I think pink might be more appropriate?” There is the slightest edge to Castiel’s voice, only the slightest, but it is there. A pointed reminder that this isn’t Dean’s car anymore, however much he isn’t ready to admit it. They stare at each other for a moment, this time Dean doesn’t do anything to hide his horrified expression. Castiel sighs, “I’ll do some research, I wasn’t expecting you to paint her yourself, I’ll find someone...”

“Benny’s,” Dean blurts out and Cas looks up at him, eyebrows raised. “Benny’s auto, it’s down on seventh, he’ll uh- he handles that sort of thing. Reasonable prices too. But I’ll-I’ll talk to him, get you a good deal anyway.”

The smile Castiel gives him is worth it.  _ Almost _ worth it.

“I’ll, uh, get on with it then,” Dean mumbles. Cas looks like he might say something further, but he thinks better of it, swallowing down the words on the tip of his tongue and nodding instead.

“I’ll leave you to it.” He hesitates, heading back into the house, but thinks better of it again and leaves Dean alone, just like Dean wants. Just like Dean doesn’t want.

The shift in mood is obvious. Dean is quiet and subdued for the rest of the day and most of the following day too. But the work gets done. It takes some doing and a lot of fiddling, but he installs a jack and tests it out on his phone. Zepp sounds better coming from the new tech, but Dean misses the tape deck. He makes sure to pack away his tapes into his duffle.

It takes half a day to pry the army man out of its lodgings in the rear door, but eventually Dean manages it. It’s a wonder Sam ever managed to get him in there, and Dean spends a long time turning it over and over in his hand.

He cannot bring himself to cover the ‘scratches’. Instead, he finds a piece of plywood and sands it down to slip neatly over the childish carvings. Unless anyone is going to pull up the fabric he seals down before ripping out the panels then they’ll be safe. Hidden, but safe. It is some grim comfort to know that wherever Baby ends up, whatever colour she gets painted over, those marks would remain, bearing some testament to how much the car had meant to the Winchester brothers.


	6. Chapter 6

On some level, Dean knows it isn’t right that Cas puts so much effort into raising Dean’s spirit. Especially as Dean is a guest in Castiel’s house. He still does the cooking but notices that Cas is a lot more enthusiastic about it all. He insists they marathon Star Wars as much as they are able to, seeing as Dean has spoken so highly of it. Dean appreciates it, he does, especially when Cas doesn’t push him for being quiet and surly.

It’s a sign of how wrong things are that Dean leaves before the Millenium Falcon lands at Cloud City. If Sam were here, he’d wonder if Dean was dying. He isn’t of course, but he feels like he is. Tomorrow he and Cas will take Baby down to Benny’s place. Benny knows they want a paint job, he knows what colours, he doesn’t know it’s the Impala. Dean hasn’t been able to voice that yet. Hopefully, when they show up, Benny will be too busy to chat about it there and then.

He grabs a beer from the fridge as he passes, beer that Castiel bought just because Dean said it was his favourite. It’s dark out, a little chilly but Dean doesn’t mind, and he hops up onto Baby’s hood, lying against her with practised ease, staring up at the stars like he and Sam used to do. The street lights ruin the effect a little, but only a little.

He lies there for a long time, one hand dancing trails across the hood. He’s a breath away from talking to the car, but that might be a step too far, and someone would probably call the cops on the guy drinking beer, reminiscing with a car. He’s so engrossed in his memories that he doesn’t realise Cas has joined him until the guy slides up onto the hood beside him. He hands Dean another beer, and Dean takes it with a grim smile.

“Sorry,” Dean grunts. He thinks about listing all the things he’s apologising for, but a quick glance at Cas shows he doesn’t need to. Cas knows.

Castiel balances uncomfortably, showing his inexperience on sitting on this or any other car. “Don’t be, I uh...I’m sorry that I couldn’t sell it back to you. I’m getting the impression the car means a lot to you.”

Dean scoffs but hides it with a sip of beer.

“Why does it mean so much to you?” Cas asks after a beat.

Dean shrugs, considering the answer. He could be honest, but he’s not nearly drunk enough to talk about Baby that way, not when he’s so close to losing her. Besides, it’s not like Cas can do anything about it, it’d probably just make him feel bad to learn the truth so Dean Winchester does what Dean Winchester does best. He lies.

“Just, y’know, always thought it’d be me who’d have her. Never really imagined her going anywhere else,” he gives a weak chuckle, “never imagined her going anywhere else in pink.”

“Cherry red, Dean,” Castiel says sagely, and they exchange a glance which has Dean chuckling for real this time.

“I’ll get over it,” Dean sighs, knowing the opposite to be true. Cas fidgets beside him trying to maintain his balance and Dean cocks an eyebrow at him, “You alright there?”

“I’ve never done this before, how are you not sliding off?”

Chuckling, Dean downs the last of the beer “Practice.” He shifts closer to Cas, and before he realises he’s done it, he has an arm around him, holding him securely against him. By the time it hits him that he’s just completely thrown the concept of personal space to the wind, Cas is already warm against him and looking up at him, a little breathless, his lips parted a little. Just a little.

“Dean,” Cas starts and it sounds so much like a sigh, that Dean is fully expecting him to throw him off the car. He isn’t expecting Cas to look up at him, almost hopefully. “I know tomorrow you’re going to head back to your uncles or wherever, but...I hope it won’t be the last time I see you?”

Despite where they are and why they’re there, Dean cannot deny the way his breath catches in his chest. “Gonna miss my cooking that much, huh?” he breezes, hardly daring to look at the man.

Castiel clears his throat. “I had hoped that I’d made my intentions clear, but I am increasingly told that my people skills are rusty, so in case I’ve been in any way vague...I like you, I’d like to keep seeing you and the only reason I haven’t been so forward sooner is because I didn’t want you to feel pressured while you were staying in my house and working on my car.”

_ My car _ .

Dean’s heart dies a little. He loosens his grip on Cas, not by much, but enough to put a little bit of space between them. “Yeah I’d uh...I’d like that, but...” He trails off and Cas immediately gets the wrong end of the stick.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Of course you’re not interested. I didn’t mean-”

“No, Cas, no, I’m interested, hell,” he looks up quickly, “I’m very interested, ok. But uh...I might need a bit of time, yeah?”

Cas frowns and it’s clear he doesn’t understand, clear he thinks he’s being rebuffed. He draws his arm away. “Of course,” he says, the rejection clear in his voice. Dean’s surprised at how disappointed he looks. “I shouldn’t have-”

Dean cuts him off with a kiss. A swift press of lips, chaste but firm. A declaration. A promise. He draws back just as quickly, embarrassed at how stunned Castiel looks, but then a grin breaks across his face, a smile warming Dean like the sun piercing clouds and it’s Dean’s turn to be embarrassed.

Castiel doesn’t stop grinning.

“Shut up,” mumbles Dean, but still Cas grins. “C’mon, we should head back in.”

“You going to walk me to my door?” Castiel teases and Dean can’t help but smile back.

“Of course, I’m a gentleman.” He holds his arm out for Castiel to take and leads him around Baby towards the door. He pauses to tap the Impala affectionately and whisper, “Goodnight, girl,” but if Cas thinks it’s weird he doesn’t say anything. They step back into the house and with exaggerated courtesy, Dean walks Castiel to his bedroom where they part on the threshold. “Night, Cas,” he says, almost bashfully.

“Goodnight, Dean.” Castiel smiles, his blue eyes sparkling in a way that would take Dean’s breath away if his heart weren’t thudding painfully in his chest. He kisses him again at the door, slower this time. Gentle. Like the gentleman he is.


	7. Chapter 7

The following morning is quiet. Soft. Dean wakes up early and for a long time just stares at the ceiling. Today Baby gets her paint job. Tonight Dean says goodbye. He’s almost surprised that he doesn’t feel anything. He’s not sad, apprehensive, there’s nothing except an empty numbness that he doesn’t so much feel, he’s just aware that it is. As though it is something that has taken residence within him. He knows it’s there, he can feel it there, but he cannot affect it in any way. He isn’t hungry, he isn’t sad, he’s just...numb.

He starts to feel a little once he’s out of bed, cooking, and Cas is with him. They don’t discuss the night before. In fact, they don’t say anything. On the surface, nothing has changed. They don’t touch each other any more than the usual casual touches required of two people moving around each other in a small kitchen. They certainly don’t kiss again. But every time Dean looks up he finds Cas looking at him, a small smile on his lips. Inevitably, he blushes and looks away, only to look up a moment later to find Dean smiling right back at him. They pass the morning like that, with few words but an excess of shy glances, flushed smiles and grins that hint at what could be. What hopefully will be. But not today. Still, Castiel’s presence is like a warm glow beside Dean, even though by all rights it’s his fault Dean is losing Baby. Not that Dean can be mad at him, especially when he reaches over and gives Dean’s hand an affectionate squeeze when he realises Dean keeps checking his phone for the time. They have an appointment after all.

When the time comes Dean’s feet feel heavy, but he forces himself to move. Castiel waits for him, leaning casually against the Impala and when Dean steps outside he calls, “Heads up,” and throws the keys to him.

Catching them on reflex alone, Dean stares at them for a moment. He feels his face break into a smile and he catches Cas’ eye. “You want me to drive?”

Castiel shrugs, innocently. “I don’t know the way.”

Dean doesn’t argue the point.

He settles into the driving seat the way he always has. As though he belongs there and he can’t help but sigh once he’s there. He runs his hands over the wheel reverently, appreciating that even though Cas has asked for so few interior alterations, she still doesn’t feel like his Baby any more. Still, he finds an appropriate classic rock radio station, winds the windows down, and tells Cas to buckle up. Hell, they have seatbelts now, may as well use them.

The drive is short, but Dean takes a scenic route, and if Castiel minds, he doesn’t say anything. In fact, he seems to appreciate it. They find a long stretch of road, and Dean puts his foot down for the last time, smiling when he hears Cas laughing beside him. Taking his eyes off the road briefly to look over at Cas he swears his heart stops somewhere in his chest. Cas looks as though he were meant to be Baby’s passenger. He looks completely at ease, his hand reaching out of the window and tapping the beat from the song playing slightly too loud for comfort. Even though he’s laughing, just from the joy of being in a fast car going  _ fast _ , a pleasure he’s obviously not indulged in much, he’s singing under his breath, barely audible over the engine and the music.

“ _ All right now. Baby, it’s all right now... _ ”

The numbness that has possessed Dean since he woke up seems to thaw a little. He feels warm inside. The glow that Castiel inspires in him spreads from his chest into every part of his body, through his very soul. Returning his eyes to the road, and slowing down at least, he realises that if this is to be goodbye, at least he’ll have that glorious sight of Cas, singing beside him in Baby to last him until the end of time.

They’re still singing when they pull into Benny’s, Dean already knowing where to park for the paint job. His gut sinks a little when he realises it’s nowhere near as busy as he’d hoped. Though he supposes the conversation was always inevitable.

“Dean!” Benny’s warm, Cajun drawl rings out as they get out of the car, and before Dean can do anything he finds himself pulled into a tight hug by the bear of a man, hardly caring for the grease stains on his jumpsuit.

“Hey, Benny. Benny this is Cas, Cas, Benny.” Dean gestures between the two of them when he’s released and can breathe again. Cas raises his hand and says hello, but Benny is staring past them at Baby with a frown.

“You okay there, Benny?”

“Hang on a sec,” Benny mutters, turning back into his office and emerging with some paperwork. He checks the paperwork, looks at Baby, checks the paperwork again and finally after the third check he frowns at Dean. “Sorry, brother. There’s a mistake somewhere, I’ve got you down for a paint job, cherry red and white?”

Nodding, Dean mumbles, “Yeah, that’s right.”

Benny raises his hand to Dean’s forehead as though to take his temperature, but it isn’t in jest. “You okay there, brother? You hit your head or something?”

Dean shrugs off Benny’s hand and steps back, steadying his breath as he goes. “Benny, this is Cas. Dad sold the Impala to him, he’s giving it to his sister for her birthday, hence the paint job. It’s no big deal.”

His shoulders lift in the universal gesture of ‘whatever,’ and he waits for Benny to start laughing.

Benny does not start laughing.

To Dean’s surprise, as well as Castiel’s whose hand is still extended, waiting to shake, Benny looks furious.

“ _ That son of a bitch _ ,” he hisses, and though his accent remains, all trace of warmth from it is gone. “He sold Baby? Even by your daddy’s standards, that’s low, Dean.” He fixes Castiel with a glare that could fell lesser men and several demi-Gods. Cas bristles under it. “And you’re just gonna give her away?”

“It’s fine,” Dean manages to grind out with just a hint of a warning that Benny doesn’t pick up on, but from the way Cas glances over at him, he knows Cas has at least.

“Fine? Ain’t nothing fine about it, man. You wanna say goodbye to the only home you’ve ever known that’s your business but don’t pretend that any of this is okay. Or we gonna pretend like that car ain’t the only good thing you’ve ever had in your life seeing as you lucked out in parents?”

“Benny,” Dean snaps, and Benny has the decency to throw his hands up defensively straight away, aware that he’s not so much crossed the line as taken a flying leap over it.

“Sorry, brother, that was outta line,” he sighs, running his hand through his hair. “I’ll get to work. I’m sorry. It’s none of my business I just-” He pats Dean on the shoulder, “I’m sorry,” he repeats with such sincerity Dean knows he’s not talking about what he said anymore. He turns to Cas with a grim smile. “So, cherry red and white for the roof yeah? You wanna just come into the office a minute, sign a few things, and we’ll get this show on the road?”

Cas is silent for a long time, though Benny doesn’t push it. When Dean dares glance up, he finds Cas staring at him with a look that can only be described as abject horror. His skin is several shades paler than it had been a moment ago. Dean wants to run, but there is nowhere for him to go. Instead, he pushes past the two of them harshly and heads for the waiting room, letting the door slam shut behind him (Benny never did get it fixed) and throwing himself onto one of the rattier sofas, cradling his head in his hands.

Sitting there, Dean has no concept of time passing. He can hear the muffled sounds of the auto shop but it all sounds very far away. He could turn the television on but that would involve moving. Instead, he sits there and closes his eyes so tightly they hurt, but even that pain, as brief and inconsequential as it is takes away from the pain of Benny having voiced the things that should never have been voiced. Benny had to go and make it real. And Cas? Cas knew everything Dean hadn’t wanted him to know.

It feels inevitable when the door finally opens, the sounds of the garage momentarily amplified before it is shut quietly. Dean doesn’t need to look up to know it’s Cas. The sofa dips as Cas sits next to him and Dean would recognise his warmth anywhere. He can hear the tension stretching between them but Dean has no desire to break the silence.

Eventually, Castiel sighs, “Dean?”

Dean doesn’t move.

“Dean, can you at least look at me?”

He can’t. But when the silence stretches again, he forces his chin up. Dean manages just a quick look, but Cas is looking at him with such sadness he can’t hold the gaze, and he returns his head to his hands.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Cas whispers. “I thought- I didn’t realise-”

“It doesn’t change anything, man. You weren’t interested in selling so what does it matter?”

“But I-”

“But what?” Dean snaps across him. “It’s not your decision. Your brother’s money is tied up in it too, you said that. You said from the start that if it was your call you’d just sell her back no problem, so why bother telling you all that other stuff?”

“That other stuff being the fact that that car out there has been the most stable presence in your life since you were a toddler?” Castiel asks, wryly and Dean can’t help but scoff.

“I’m gonna kill Benny.”

Beside him Castiel shifts, and when Dean looks up, he has turned on the sofa, so he faces Dean, his legs crossed and he looks at him expectantly. “Tell me.”

“What?”

“Tell me about her?”

“What? No, man. It’s...forget it, it doesn’t matter.”

Hardly deterred, Castiel reaches over and takes one of Dean’s hand, drawing it gently into his lap to be cradled there. “Please?”

Impatiently, Dean sighs, but he glances over, feels the warmth in Castiel’s hands, the intensity behind his eyes and says, “I guess it started when my mom died...” ‘ _ This is stupid _ ,’ he thinks.

When Benny comes to tell them that the Impala is ready a few hours later, he finds them much as they were. Just about. Castiel still sits cross-legged, his fingers trailing through Dean’s hair which he has easy access to seeing as Dean lies in his lap, staring up at the ceiling, talking about Baby like the world’s weirdest therapy session. His voice is hoarse from continuous talking, and there are salt tracks smeared across his face where he has cried from laughter and everything else. He has told Cas everything and then some. Weirdly, he feels lighter for it. Weirdly, he feels like he has said his goodbyes now. Cas hasn’t said a word, but his touch has been a constant, grounding presence. He has wiped away Dean’s tears, he’s doubled over laughing so hard his ribs will hurt for days, and he’s looked suitably horrified when Dean tells him just how many  _ friends _ he’s entertained in the back seat. But most of all he has listened  _ really _ listened and Dean can’t think of a way to thank him for what he’s done without straying dangerously close to chick-flick territory.

“She’s ready,” Benny calls.

Dean practically shoots up, regretting instantly given how his head spins, but Cas is there beside him to steady him and he doesn’t release Dean’s hand. Casually, he curls his fingers around Dean’s loose grip, holding him close and he doesn’t pull away even as they cross the shop to where the Impala waits. Dean expects his heart to be wrenched from him when he sees her, but it isn’t. Weirdly...she looks okay. She doesn’t look like Baby anymore, but that’s okay. The cherry red is nowhere near as garish as he had imagined, and it is definitely more palatable than hot pink. The white roof isn’t to his taste, but he can imagine it being the envy of the high school parking lot and that alone makes him smile. He’s aware that both Cas and Benny are watching him, waiting for his reaction. Benny is holding his breath and Cas is holding Dean’s hand so firmly it might start hurting soon.

“She looks good, Benny, good job,” Dean says, rolling his eyes when they both let out a breath in relief. He takes the keys and is about to slip into the driver’s seat when he pauses and passes them to Cas.

“You want me to drive?” Cas asks, openly surprised.

Dean just shrugs. “She’s not my Baby anymore.”


	8. Chapter 8

Life after Baby is not nearly as harrowing as Dean had imagined it to be. He leaves her with Castiel and tells him to wish his sister a happy birthday from him. He also tells him that if Anna so much as dents Baby, they’ll never find her body, but Cas assures him he has no intention of passing that on. He drives back to Bobby’s, makes up the sofa bed, and does the old man’s grocery shopping in thanks for all he’s done.

The day of Anna’s birthday comes, and Dean sends Cas a text to enjoy the party, laughing when Cas sends back a string of emojis showing how he really feels about having to attend a sixteen-year-old’s party. Vaguely, Dean wonders if Anna liked her present, but he can’t quite bring himself to ask, and Cas doesn’t volunteer it. Despite that, they continue to text for the rest of the day. And the day after that. And the day after that. After a week, Dean realises that as much as he misses Baby, he also misses Cas. Everything reminds him of the guy.

Bobby’s battered coffee maker is a piece of crap, but it reminds Dean of how Cas hated mornings with a passion, considering it a personal insult that the sun had risen. He flips to something on Netflix, and thinks about how few movies Cas has seen and the deadpan commentary that inevitably accompanies them. Most of all, he thinks of Cas in the small hours. When he’s alone on Bobby’s sofa, having given up on getting comfortable, he thinks about Cas cradling his head, Cas holding his hand and of course the few kisses they’ve shared.

Ever a man of action, Dean doesn’t wait for much longer than that before he sends off a text, ‘ _ Hey, so, you wanna get some dinner tomorrow? My treat. You pick the place, I’ll pick up the check _ .’

Castiel’s responds with an enthusiastic, ‘ _ YES _ ’ with gratifying speed.

Cas doesn’t pick a fancy restaurant like Dean figures he would. Instead, he picks a mid-range, family-owned joint that isn’t particularly classy, but Dean chooses to dress up anyway. Or at least, he wears his nicest pair of black jeans and his cleanest henley. He brushes off his boots and makes sure to tell Bobby not to wait up after the guy drives him there. He’s kind of banking on heading back to Cas’ place later, but if not, he can always Uber back. At least that way, if he doesn’t end up at Cas’ place, he can drown his disappointment in booze before he heads back to Bobby’s.

He arrives before Cas does and asks for the reservation under the name, ‘Winchester.’ His hands are strangely clammy, and the hostess clocks his nerves straight away, giving him a reassuring smile and bringing a candle to the table with a knowing wink before Castiel arrives.

When Castiel does arrive, all nerves go out the window. Along with Dean’s sense of propriety. It’s not his fault, not when Castiel has cleaned up as well as he has. He’s wearing a white dress shirt paired with an almost navy suit, and even though it’s clearly not his best suit, it ticks every box Dean didn’t know he had. 

It’s the smile that does it though. The way Castiel’s eyes light up at the sight of Dean even though all he’s done is just show up and Dean is lost. He leaves his table, crossing the length of the restaurant in a few hasty strides and then his hand are cupping Cas’ cheeks and he’s kissing him as though he’s drowning and Cas is the air he needs to live. His heart practically stops when Cas leans in towards him, kissing him back, his hands tracing up towards his shoulders to hold him there. They don’t break apart until they hear a cough beside them and find the hostess grinning at them but apologising that this is technically a family restaurant and could they please return to their table?

Dean and Castiel exchange guilty looks, looking every bit the guilty schoolboys they might as well be. Dean holds out his hand and Cas takes it, easily, allowing himself to be led to their table. As corny as it is, they sit and stare at each other for a while, missing the hostess’ offer of drinks the first time. It’s only when she returns with menus that Dean realises neither of them even said hello yet. The thought makes him laugh, even more so when Cas raises an eyebrow only to catch on immediately and start chuckling along with him.

“Hello, Dean.” Cas smiles. 

Dean beams at him. A minute ago he’d been worried that they’d be awkward and uncomfortable around each other, but the opposite is true. He’d wondered if what had gone on with Baby would taint their time together, maybe now that they weren’t in close proximity or had a reason to be near each other they’d find they’d have nothing to talk about. He has never been so glad to be proved wrong.

“I’ve missed you,” Dean blurts out over steak (and it’s really good steak), but Castiel just smiles that sunny smile of his.

“I’ve missed you, too,” and he isn’t just saying it because Dean’s said it, it’s clear he means it.

“So?” prompts Dean when dessert makes an appearance and they’ve talked about everything except the obvious.

“So…?”

With an exasperated roll of his eyes Dean grins. “Did your sister like her present?” He’d be lying if he said it had been an easy question to ask. He’d be lying if he said there wasn’t a pang of jealousy in his gut at the thought of some kid driving around in his Baby. No, not his Baby, Anna’s cherry red Impala with a white roof. But it’s bearable. And it’s practically nothing compared to how happy he is to be with Cas right now anyway.

Castiel hesitates before he answers, but Dean isn’t surprised. He’s probably trying to gauge the mood, but Dean’s smile is genuine. “She liked it just fine, thank you,” he says, a little more guarded than Dean would have liked, but he’s been so open about everything else he chalks it up to being nervous about talking about Dean’s car in front of him.  _ Anna’s car _ . Anna’s cherry red Impala with a white roof. “She liked our parents' gift better. No accounting for taste,” he mumbles into his beer and Dean practically chokes on his pie.

“She  _ what _ ?! The hell did they get her?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Castiel grumbles. Dean’s mouth opens to ask him anyway but Cas is already changing the subject, so Dean lets him.”So,” he says, dabbing his napkin at his mouth, “This was nice. Will...Will I see you again?”

“Are you serious?” Dean frowns though he manages to successfully fight off the urge to dance around talking about feelings, for once. Given that the alternative is to head home to Bobby’s sofa and think about what might have been, it’s not a hard-won battle. “Cas, yeah. I mean, I thought...I thought this was a date? I don’t just kiss anyone like that you know.” He’s a little put out that Cas might have misread the situation, he thought he’d been clear enough. “I like you, Cas. I really like you. I’ve missed you so much this week. I’ve missed the way you complain into your coffee first thing in the morning. I’ve missed the way you can’t cook worth a damn so you think everything I do is magic even if it’s just mac and cheese. I’ve missed watching movies and listening to you point out the plot holes, so yeah, Cas, I wanna see you again. I wanna see you as much as you’ll let me.”

The table shakes a little as Cas practically throws himself into Dean’s lap, stealing the sentiment from his lips, and he feels so  _ right  _ there, straddling Dean’s lap, that Dean feels terrible having to break them apart. But he doesn’t want to get arrested for public indecency, and they’ve probably already tried the hostess’ patience.

“We should get out of here,” Castiel says firmly and Dean has never been on board with something so fast. He throws practically every twenty in his wallet onto the table which probably includes a hefty tip to cover the embarrassment of having to serve them.

It’s cool outside, but Dean is quite warm, his blood thrumming just beneath the skin caught somewhere between anticipation and sheer joy that Cas is holding his hand. 

“I parked up here,” Cas says, leading Dean out of the car park and along the street. Dean lets him. Why complain when they get to walk hand in hand like this?

“Dean, I have a confession to make,” Castiel says, suddenly and he seems so worried Dean stops short.

“What?”

“I like you a lot, and I was hoping tonight would go well. I didn’t want anything else to jeopardise that.” He isn’t making much sense so Dean gestures for him to continue. “I like us, I like how we are together and I miss having you at home, not just because I can’t cook worth a damn,” he adds, wryly, and Dean laughs, still unsure as to where this is going. “So I want you to know that I was always going to tell you, I really was, I just...I was selfish and wanted to make sure you liked me for me.”

Lit only by the artificial glow of a streetlight Dean cups Castiel’s face and forces him to look up. “Cas? Where’s all this coming from? Of course, I like you for you, what else is there?”

Castiel smiles at that, and takes Dean’s hands in his own. He gestures with a nod to somewhere behind Dean. Dean turns and he’s pretty sure he’s dreaming or having an out of body experience. There’s Baby. Baby is parked up on the other side of the road. Not Anna’s cherry red Impala with the white roof.  _ His _ Baby. Cas lets him go before Dean practically drags him across to her, and he touches her, reverently, as though she might disappear before him. But she’s here. She’s been repainted to her original classic black. Her detailing has been polished, though the seatbelts and the iPod jack remain. It’s when he looks inside to the back, to see that the covering he’d put in there had been removed and the fabric is drawn back as though to show him the old ‘D.W.’ ‘S.W.’ markings.

He turns to Cas, hardly breathing. “I don’t understand.”

“There was some confusion over my sister’s present,” Castiel says, and though his expression is neutral his voice gives away how happy he is to be having this conversation. “My brother and I promised her a car, but it turns out, so did our parents. As hilarious as it was that she received two cars, she’s not nearly spoiled enough to keep them both. She chose the other one.” He gives a bashful smile, “I might have encouraged her towards that decision, a little at least, but either way the outcome was the same. I had Benny take a look at her, and, of course, repaint her, and I’ll be happy to sell her back to you, Dean. For what we paid her, not her actual worth as you initially offered. You get your car back, Gabriel gets his money back, Anna gets a replacement present and I...get you, I guess,” he ends with an impish smile.

“Castiel, I think I love you,” says Dean, when he’s found his voice, choked with emotion, not so much that he has his Baby back, though yes that is a very,  _ very _ good thing, but that Cas went to all this trouble.

Laughing, Cas brushes his thumb over Dean’s cheek where he’s pretty sure a tear has appeared from somewhere. “Now you see why I wanted to be sure,” he jokes but yeah, Dean gets it.

“Oh, Baby,” Dean breathes and Cas isn’t entirely sure which of them he’s talking to. “Wait...what car did your parents get her?” asks Dean, suddenly wondering what could possibly compare to Baby.

“A Lincoln Continental.”

“Shut up!” Dean all but screams, “You’re lying. No way, she chose that pimpmobile over my Baby?!”

Castiel smiles indulgently, “Dean, because she chose that pimpmobile you’ve got your car back.”

“Yeah but...that’s just insulting, I mean-”

“It helped when I pointed out that our parents were more inclined to tax and insure the car they’d chosen for her rather than let Anna sort it for herself. Also I said it would be safer,” he gives a playful shrug, “the Lincoln has seatbelts.”

Dean is laughing when he pulls Cas in for a hug, one full of meaning and thanks, all the thanks he can’t convey with words. When they draw apart, Cas is holding the keys out to him, “drive us home?” he asks, with a significance Dean can’t miss burning in his blue eyes.

“Sure, Cas,” he replies, taking the keys. “Let’s go home.”


End file.
